"Brought her in yesterday. What do you think, son?" The gruff old man grinned at the sandy-haired boy.
The boy, who was actually in his twenty-first year, stared down in horror at the young woman, who looked to have previously been gagged and tied, kneeling on the floor of his uncle's study. Her long ebony hair was matted with a congealed paste, he wasn't sure what it was but, from the look of it, he didn't want to know. The dirt that smeared her dark features was of the same colour as her tattered cotton dress, if it should be called that, with what little of it remained. He dared not let his gaze travel down further to her shapely, and incredibly bronzed, legs, for the intensity in her own unusual sea-green eyes displayed such concentrated hate he had to repress a shudder and look away.
"Why, may I ask, is she here?" The boy said, taking his uncle to one side.
His elder appeared confused, "Why else than as your birthday present?"
Aniketos' heart sank. He had forgotten about the celebration his family were holding for his twenty-second year in four days. And he was receiving this girl as his uncle's gift. Glancing back at her he was about to kindly refuse but was cut off.
"Now, Ani." His uncle, Epaphos, warned, "You rejected my present for your twentieth, I will not have it happen again."
Even though he tried to resist, Epaphos was right. It would be a direct insult to him if he rejected him again this year. Hesitantly, he accepted her and his uncle grinned widely, calling in servants to make the girl cleaned and ready for him. Aniketos sighed after he thanked his uncle and made his way to his livery. He'd already had lovers, why give him a slavegirl? What use was she to him? Shaking his head at his uncle's insistence, he pushed the doors open and grabbed his saddle he'd had to drop when he was pulled aside, carrying on to the end of the stable where his own horse stood waiting for him.
"Afternoon, Zakhrusos. How are you?" He asked, placing the saddle on his horse's back and picking up a brush and running it over the side of his belly. A puff of air blew through his nose at Ani's face in response, clearly annoyed at him.
"I know," he grumbled, "I'm late. But this time it wasn't my fault, Epaphos held me back to give me a present."
The golden horse, an animal he had practically grow up with, nuzzled his neck and tapped his hooves on the ground a few times. Aniketos grinned, "Yeah, I want to get out of here too." He climbed up and almost immediately after he nudged the door latch open with his toe, Zakhrusos shot out, trotting enthusiastically to the stable's leading to the fields. His rider barely had time to warn the stable-hand to actually open the doors before they burst out, Zakhrusos now quickly increasing speed as if on his own accord.
They galloped across the plain of grass, the sun coming out to greet them as the clouds rolled away with the wind. Utter freedom after what was the longest winter anybody had ever had. It wasn't quite as heated as the summer would soon make, but, there only being a slight chill in the air, Aniketos couldn't care less. By far, this was much better than staying cooped up inside, sitting doing nothing. Yes, he was going to enjoy the next six months very much.
Stopping at the edge of the hill they lived on, Zakhrusos and Ani lounged on the ground, munching [apples] picked from the large tree they sat under. The hill overlooked much of the Chrissi Island, the sea a plethora of turquoise jewels glittering in the daylight. Even though it was still mid-afternoon and the tide was low, the distinct salty scent hung in the air, filling Ani's nose. The whole sight made him envious of those that were able to see what in the world was as beautiful, or more beautiful, as this. A pang of jealousy shot through him, which was not altogether uncommon around this time of year; he wished he could see what others saw, experience thrills away from his little hill. 'Soon,' he thought, getting back up to take Zakhrusos by the saddle and lead him back to the stable, 'Very soon, indeed.'
This could not happening.
That was one of two things she kept telling herself over and over. But no matter how many times she repeated it, the reality was that she was trapped. The other thing was filled with choice words, mainly to do with the men that now owned her to stick some sharp things up a certain place, only in her mind this had a widely colourful vocabulary. No matter how much she internally cursed, however, she knew resistance was futile. Being surrounded on all sides by three bustling, and handsome, ladies and knowing the guard four times her size that had escorted her here was standing just outside, Nafkratene was very much stuck.
Now, she was being scrubbed so she could be oiled and dressed to look every bit the perfect slavegirl, ready for her master's pleasure. And while the water helped with being clean and revitalisingly fresh, she was constantly reminded by the gossiping women dealing with her of the reason why. It was painful. So there she sat in a brass tub the female servants shared, baring all as they passed sponge after sponge of fragrant water over her body.
"You're quite slim, aren't you?" Commented the first, her black hair struck through with sharp white strands, evidence of her middle age. Nafkratene refused to answer.
"Not much of a talker, eh?" Said her younger companion, whose nose was covered in freckles that, in her teenage years, would have been seen as charming.
The third, an even younger, curvaceous figure with straight eyebrows framing her round eyes, agreed, "But you are right, Perliana, she is skinny."
"And very dark. Where did you say you were from?" the second asked, gently pouring water over head.
Perliana moved away to pick up a plate of oil across the room, "No point in in trying to make conversation, Erianthe," she called, "I don't think she's in the mood for it."
Erianthe leaned back slightly to look at her face, "Can you even understand us?"
Nafkratene bit her tongue to keep from cursing, instead she simply nodded, adding, rather sarcastically, "Yes, I can understand you very well, thank you. I was born in Alexandria."
"Oh look, Terpnone!" Erianthe called to the third, "She speaks!"
"All too well, it seems." She replied, producing a cloth and taking Nafkratene's hand to stand. Wrapping it around her, Terpnone dried her body, tying it on and sitting her down on a woven stool, "You're not resisting anyone anymore. And talking. That's a first."
She looked down at them lightly rubbing oil into her skin, "I realised you aren't the ones I'm angry at. Your employers, however, well, they're a different matter."
Erianthe giggled, "They can be a handful, but I don't think we have much to complain about."
"You, on the other hand," Perliana turned her attention back to her, "do have a reason to be angry." As she dried her hands, she paused, then said, "To be taken from a place as long away as Alexandria... I can't begin to imagine it."
By now they had finished with the oil and were all drying their hands in silence, ready to put her garments on her. Terpnone piped up while the clothes were being taken out, "But you'll like Master Aniketos, he's very kind. Him and his uncle have tempers but only if you push them too far."
Nafkratene's interest suddenly peaked at this. 'A temper?' She thought, 'Perfect.'
Apparently, being chosen as a slavegirl meant that Nafkratene had to abide by a certain schedule every morning, noon and night, a schedule she had to perfect in less than a week. That said, her escaping from this place would be disrupting the daily plan a smidge. Not that it'd bother her.
She still had to find him, though, whomever he may be, and take him back with her. They said he was a young orphan, a boy, and lived on the island south of Crete. Chrissi itself was small, so looking wouldn't take that long; leaving might, but she would figure that out later. So far as she had seen, however, nobody fit that description.
There she was, in a cotton dress and hair made up to somehow accentuate her features, sitting in the servants' humble kitchen, a new addition to their family. Two of the three women that had dealt with her, Perliana and Erianthe, had left to complete their other duties, leaving Nafkratene alone with Terpnone. In the past hour she had been lecturing her on the workings of the manor and the etiquette the servants followed. According to her, the servants, after they were bought as slaves, worked their way up to becoming free. It took a while but they could choose what they wanted to do after; leave or stay.
The reason she came here was simple. Get the boy, get out again, go home.
How wrong she was.
When I read over this I noticed some major mistakes that I found quite embarrassing! Anywho, they're all fixed now...I think.
So, there was the first chapter! This story sort of sprung on me, and I had to get it up as soon as possible. The title might change, I don't think I'm too happy with it, so until I figure out a new one, I should probably summarise the story a bit better.
It's set on the island of Chrissi, which is just south of Crete, around twenty or so years following Alexandria's foundation. I don't want to reveal too much at this point but the Greek gods will definitely have a part in all this. As this is rated M, you can only guess what's going to happen between the two of them!